I’m a summer man. And every year, the only way for me to let summer go is to pay close attention to autumn’s deepest lesson.
Carnivore or herbivore, every living creature has an inclination, and often a well-honed skill, for mauling and killing friend and foe alike.
My advice is relatively simple. Don’t be weird.
No matter the circumstance, good or bad, children hear a moment’s musical accompaniment resonating from unhearable spaces.
It’s good to pray for others, especially for folks you’d prefer to run over with your car.
A sure sign that you’re getting older might be that as you’re taunting your teenage daughter from across a room, you stick out your tongue and pull a neck muscle.
Being the type of father who instigates more than his fair share of toilet humor in the household, I can think of about fifty things to say about this whisky’s nature, all of which my wife would typically categorize as rude.
The thing about storms is that once they come, the only real way to escape is to endure.
Imagine for a moment that you’re at a funeral. Suddenly, a scratching sound becomes a somewhat shallow thumping from inside the coffin. What do you do? Do you open it?
If I were ever invited to discuss the topic of common sense with philosophers, the first argument I’d bring to the conversation is that the term itself is a misnomer.